


The Taskmaster

by shieldivarius



Series: Phil Coulson: High School Principal [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: Crossover, Established Relationship, Fluff, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 18:26:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shieldivarius/pseuds/shieldivarius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You have your nemeses, your rivals...</p><p>Your rogue S.H.I.E.L.D. agents masquerading as gym teachers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Taskmaster

**Author's Note:**

> If you've seen Ultimate Spider-Man (or want to), this is tied to the events of 1x06 "Why I Hate Gym." 
> 
> You don't need to have seen that to understand anything that happens in the story, because it's all Natasha and Clint (mostly Clint) being lonely anyway.

“He promised he’d be home _every_ weekend,” Clint whined.

Natasha closed her book around her finger to hold her place and frowned at him, seated at the other end of the couch. She had her feet propped up in his lap, had been enjoying her book and tuning out the noises actors and sound technicians had decided death sounded like for the sake of safe entertainment.

“He _did_ ,” Clint said, emphatic.

“No, Barton, that’s only what you heard.”

Clint put the controller down and ran a hand across one of her feet, pressing his thumb into the sole. Natasha wiggled her toes, an appreciative noise playing in her throat.

“But he _has_ come by to see us every weekend.”

“He has,” she agreed. “He must be busy this weekend.” She opened her book again, spread it over her legs. “It’s later in the term now, his responsibilities will be increasing.”

Clint glared at her, like she didn’t miss Phil as much as he did.

“Think about how he might be feeling, for a moment,” she said.

“Probably so busy he barely notices.”

Natasha kicked him, digging her heel into his thigh. His hands darted to cover the tender bits between his legs.

“He notices,” she said, driving it home with another kick. “And if he comes home and you complain because he’s not running on _your_ schedule…”

Clint squeezed her foot, then went back to digging his thumb in and working the tension out of her arches. Natasha sighed and tilted her head back against the arm of the couch. She let her eyes drift shut.

She knew exactly where Clint’s complaint was coming from, felt the same way but understood Phil was only doing his job and that he’d be off this assignment as soon as he could be, but not a day before. Laying back and accepting that was _hard_ , yes, especially for an assignment this long, but it wasn’t as though this was new to them.

Things could have been much worse—Phil could’ve been placed somewhere remote instead of right at home in New York. He could’ve been placed deeper undercover and forbidden from any contact with them. It could’ve been a more dangerous assignment. They’d gotten off light, as far as knowing-and-aware, but having to wait to be contacted didn’t get any easier.

“What if something came up and he’s in trouble, though?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, stared at the popcorn of the ceiling for a moment, then sat back up. “Phil is fine.”

“If he’s babysitting those kids, who’s looking out for him?”

“He’s looking out for him,” she frowned at the wording on that, played it back through her head, mentally shrugged. “Phil’s more than capable of taking care of himself in addition to five teenagers.”

She ignored the glare Clint continued giving her and turned her attention back to her book.

“But it’s Saturday,” came the next unnecessary complaint. Natasha pressed her lips together and kept her focus on the page in front of her. He laughed, low and probably at her ignoring him, and went back to his video game.

 

Natasha’s phone rang a few hours later, just as she was thinking it might be time to order dinner and force Clint to remove himself from in front of the T.V. Glancing at the caller I.D. as she answered it, she shared a smile with Clint.

“Hi, darling, we’re at Clint’s.”

The rushing noise of air in the background and static on the line told her Phil was on the Helicarrier, rather than at home like she’d been expecting. She flicked the phone to speaker.

“Sorry for being so late. I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it out to Bed-Stuy tonight. There was an incident at the school and I have some loose ends to tie up.”

“I told you!” Clint crowed, jabbing a finger through the air at her. She rolled her eyes. Phil laughed.

“Incident?” she asked.

“Old friend decided to infiltrate the school to try and work out Spider-Man’s identity. It’s been dealt with, but there’s paperwork. You know how it is.”

“D’you want company? We could drive down to the river, join you,” Clint suggested. Even though she’d been thinking about the same lines, Natasha frowned at him.

“I’d like that,” Phil said.

Clint stuck out his tongue.

 

“So, who was it? Tell me we’ve got the clearance for that.”

“Taskmaster,” Phil said, pushing Clint’s feet off of his desk as soon as he got them up there. Clint made a show of pretending to fall over, catching himself at the last moment. From her place on the couch, Natasha gave a huff of laughter.

“Is that the freak that mimics whatever you do?”

“In that he learns your techniques almost instantly through advanced analysis, yes,” Phil replied.

“Call us next time,” Natasha said. “Yes, you were working with your other team, but we could have helped.”

“It was technically—”

“We could have helped,” Natasha repeated. “S.H.I.E.L.D. was called anyway.”

The corners of Phil’s lips quirked up. “You were worried. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

She looked away. “I wasn’t worrying until now,” she said. The admission stuck in her throat a little on the way out, because maybe she should have known that something was wrong when Phil hadn’t stuck to routine and come home, but she’d shrugged it off and what if something serious had happened?

“They’re a good team. They need work, and they’re young, but they’ll do well. They had it handled.”

Natasha crossed her arms. Of course they did, and as she’d told Clint only earlier that day, Phil could take care of himself. Still, Phil ending up in the crosshairs of a rogue S.H.I.E.L.D. agent with a grudge against Nick Fury was a lot different from him standing on the sidelines and coaching his little league superheroes to victory.

“Yeah, well, I guess they’d have to, since you were hanging upside down by your ankles,” Clint said, leaning over the desk. Phil slapped shut the file he’d been reading upside down.

“Snoop,” he chided, amused.

“I spend too much time around Nat. Picked up spying tendencies.”

“I’m not sure you needed me to give you those, and the last thing you are is subtle,” Natasha remarked. She studied the side of the desk that hid Phil’s feet from view. “You had your circulation checked out by medical?”

“I did. It’s fine,” he assured her with a smile.

“I want to talk to your team.” Teach them something about protocols, and impart on them the importance of Phillip J Coulson to S.H.I.E.L.D.

And to herself and Clint, of course.

She could tell by Phil’s expression that he knew where her mind had gone. He crossed the room and nudged her feet over so that he could sit on the edge of the couch. Clint perched on the arm behind him and leaned into his back.

“Maybe one day, when they’re confident enough that you won’t permanently scare them off,” he said. “Until then, I’d appreciate if you kept your discretion. And distance.”

“For the foreseeable future, I can keep to that.”

“Natasha.”

“No, she’s right, Phil. Something comes up, one of us’ll probably go apeshit on those kids and we’re not going to promise otherwise.”

Natasha nodded in solidarity.

Phil gave a defeated sigh. “I love you both,” he said with a glance at the closed door. “But sometimes you’re too much.”

**Author's Note:**

> http://shieldivarius.tumblr.com


End file.
